


Messages

by Sugarfire (SephMichiRook)



Series: Simply Complicated [8]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epsilon Fragments, Epsilon is dead, F/M, Gen, M/M, No beta reader, Will likely never be completed, i'm not crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SephMichiRook/pseuds/Sugarfire
Summary: Epsilon is gone.  Tucker is shattered.  Simmons is in a coma.  The Sanghilli and UNSC are staring holes at each other over the broken remnants of Chorus.Life must go on.  Church knew this better than anyone, so he left them instructions on how, along with some life coaches.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There was supposed to be a story before this, detailing Tucker's struggle to hide what Church did to save the team, and the team's struggle to save him from himself.

They all gathered in Carolina and Grif’s apartment. Wash had to give Carolina credit, she knew how to pick them. It was just as big as the one in Armonia, still two floors and still lacked any real interior walls, but Grif’s influence was there now, too. The kitchen was used, the furniture was earth tones and wood, and there was just more of it. Right now the couch and a couple of chairs and been moved to make a semi-circle around a large wooden coffee table in the living room. Knick knacks had actually appeared, mostly reminders of their time here on Chorus. All in all, it felt warmer, more inviting. Calming.

They were going to need that calm in a few minutes, he was sure about that.

The Sanghilli holographic player was sitting on the coffee table, along with six smaller packages, each with a Greek letter on it. One had two letters, Eta and Iota. It was hard to think about, that all Epsilon had left them looked so small. Epsilon had left instructions for everyone to be there, but Simmons still hadn’t woken up. Tucker was still weak from trying to keep these pieces of the AI to himself, but they had managed to get him up the stairs to be here. It wasn’t quiet, per sae, but it felt like a funeral. 

Tucker was sitting in the middle of the sofa, directly in front of the projector. His elbows rested on his spread knees so his hands dangled between his legs. His head was down most of the time, but every now and then, he’d lift it just enough to look at the projector, and then you could see the huge black circles around his eyes, and the dry lips. Three days ago, Junior’s people had been able to finally retrieve the fragments from Tucker. They hadn’t been sure what happened to Epsilon until then, but it hit them all hard, especially Carolina. Once they had been able to extract the Epsilon files, Tucker had finally agreed to take off the Meta armor, and was wearing a white tee shirt and worn out jeans. 

Wash would have to remember to not call it ’the Meta armor’ anymore. Tucker had already made it clear he was keeping it, so it was Tucker’s armor now, for better or worse. Wash felt a ghost of a smile, wondering if Maine would have approved of the fast talking ladies’ man having it.

Donut was perched on the arm of the sofa, leaning back on Doc, who had propped himself against the back . They had just come from their respective shifts, and their helmets were on the kitchen counter, next to his, and everyone else’s. Nobody but Caboose and Lopez were wearing theirs, in fact. Occasionally, Donut would look up at Doc, and the brunette would absentmindedly nuzzle the blonde’s forehead. Wash noted neither of them took their eyes off the container marked Omega for very long.

In the chair to the left of them, Grif was apparently lounging, unless you looked really close. The big man had become more, and not just in terms of his chest dimensions. He was watching everyone in the room, and occasionally reaching out to touch Carolina. She was pacing back and forth behind the chair, her eyes never leaving the recorder. Both of them were dressed in pajama pants and tee shirts, and Wash knew they had been closed up in here for the last three days. Grif had a fresh shiner on his right eye, and Carolina had large dark bags under hers.

In the chair across from the roommates, on the other side of the coffee table, Sarge and Emily had taken up space. The older couple were still in their armor as well, and while it seemed inappropriate, Emily was sitting on Sarge’s lap, their fingers intertwined. She wasn’t leaning into him, however. She was studying the people in the room, and only occasionally she would lean down and whisper something, and he would give a little smile, and then they’d go back to people watching. It was weird to see them being so… respectful. 

Caboose was on the other side of Tucker, and while he wasn’t bouncing, he was still fairly… calm, talking to his AIs. Freckles was laying on the couch, and FILSS was buzzing around in Church’s old eyeball. So he was okay, for now.

Lopez was behind it all, standing by a pillar, looking bored. Odd for a robot to look bored and over it all, except for Lopez. 

Everyone was here. Time to get started. 

Wash didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to when he walked up to the holographic storage device and activated it. As the little blue sniper popped up into existence, he went back to his place behind Sarge and Emily. 

“Okay, everyone’s here? Good,” Church’s voice seemed to fill the entire empty space between them all. Wash saw Carolina’s hand reach to her mouth as she stopped pacing, and Tucker’s eyes go wide.

“Yes, Church, we are all here, waiting for you!” Caboose said in a super loud excited voice. 

“I know, Caboose. But I’m not coming back,” ‘Church’ said, somewhat exasperated and infinitely sad. Wash felt a pain shoot through his chest, and judging by the reactions of everyone else, they all felt something similar, but probably more of it. Except, oddly Caboose, who just looked kind of happy to see the hologram. “And before you ask, I had Delta run reactionary scenarios to predict your responses, so I could answer them. I want this to be as easy as it can be for you guys, so I’ll try to answer all your questions.”  
The hologram went silent for a moment. “Wait a minute. Where’s Simmons?” it asked suddenly, real concern in its voice. 

“How’d you-”

“I used the suit’s scanners to determine who’s in the room,” it answered impatiently, proving the reactionary logarithms weren’t perfect. “Where is he?”

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Sarge said. “But he can’t leave the hospital, and we weren’t going to huddle around his bed for this.”

Knowing it had access to scanners, and probably an audio receiver, made Church looking in Doctor Grey’s direction make sense. “Will he survive?”

“It’s likely, provided we get the parts correct,” she replied. “He took a lot of damage to his internal cybernetics.” Through the hologram, Wash watched Grif cringe, and now it was Carolina with her fingers in his hair, stroking lightly, a comforting touch.

“Good to hear,” and they all heard the relief in the AI’s voice. “Okay, so let’s do this.

“See, here’s the thing, guys. These fragments that I’m about to give you? They’ve always been here with me. I know Delta told you that they were here as far back as that stupid sand pyramid fight, and since we took down the Director, they’ve been growing in strength with me. Not just in what they can do, but in personality. And, like Delta, many of them will be familiar. For Wash and Carolina, they all will be.” 

Church actually somehow looked at both of them. “And, by the way, no comments from the peanut gallery. I have my reasons, you’ll just have to trust me.” It got a small, watery smile out of Carolina, and Grif looked up at her finally, and took the hand touching his head. The way the big man tilted his head, Wash was able to see the tears in his eyes as well. 

“It’s kinda odd. These fragments, matching them up with all of you… The second I found the suit, I knew I was going to have to do this. But, while it was only a few minutes for you guys, it took forever for me. Analyzing them, it was like analyzing myself. In a way, it was matching up the parts of me that meshed best with each of you. It was very revealing. So much so, that, if you don’t mind, I’d really rather you don’t install them around each other. There’s a message to each of you with each fragment that you probably don’t want everyone to hear. 

“But the fragments, they aren’t perfect. Each one is hyperfocused on their own path to the result. They all have their flaws. And they all have their strengths. Strengths and flaws that you all can balance and use. 

“So I’m asking you to use them, and protect them. Care for them, like you care for each other. And remember, that when you do, you’re kinda protecting me, too. So don’t fuck it up.”

The recording paused for a second, almost like it was letting everyone get it together. Donut and Doc both had tears running down their faces, and Kleenex boxes had magically appeared near everyone, unless you noticed FILSS returning to float by Caboose. Wash’s head had shaken more than once, and he thought he had even hear a chuckle a time or two. God damn it, Church. 

“So, here we go. Caboose, come on up and get your message.”

“Okay. Which box is mine?”

“Uh, none of them,” Church replied. “FILSS, how are you enjoying the new body?”

“I am enjoying it very much. It’s always nice to be able to move around. But Director, how did you know I was here?” 

“Because I saw Caboose near your terminal with the eyeball. I figure if he could manage to get me out of a damaged storage unit into it, it’d be a piece of cake to download you, especially with your help,” Church said. “Freckles, how are you?”

“Functional,” the rifle replied.

“How are you and FILSS getting along?”

“She is annoying,” the rifle replied. From the back of the room, Lopez said something in Spanish that no one but FILSS understood, and it looked like the eyeball actually blushed. 

“Buddy, I know you’ll want to be sad about this, but think of it this way. You actually have two AIs, and you’ll have your hands full with them. Besides, how was I supposed to pick just one for you? I’d have to give you more, and that wouldn’t be fair to the other guys.” There were a few more smiles and nods and head shakes around the room. “Besides, this way you’re free to baby sit whenever they need a break.”

“That is true. And that way, I will have all of them some of the time! That is a great idea,” Caboose said, starting quietly and getting louder with each word. He reached out to the projector and looked confused. “How do I get them out of here?”

“I can help you retrieve them, Caboose,” FILSS said, floating down next to him. She gave quick instructions to the files with his name on them, and he quickly downloaded them. 

“Suck up,” Freckles said to FILSS, and FILSS made a rude sound back. Caboose took his seat, absently picking up Freckles and hugging him to his chestplate.

“Be good, you two,” Caboose reprimanded them both. Sounds that sounded like begrudging acknowledgement came from the two weapons. 

“Okay, let's keep the feels train a-rollin!” Church said. “Sarge, Dr. Grey, please come here.” Emily looked a little surprised to be included, but they got up and, holding hands, took the few short steps to the coffee table. “Sarge, would you do me the great honor of taking care of Theta? He’s a little shy at first, so try not to scare him too much.” As Church said Theta, his image changed into the Greek letter. 

Wash felt the flashbacks hit him between the eyes. Theta, the little red-blue-purple AI with the fireworks and the skateboard and the little boy voice, hiding behind North’s leg when they were first introduced. North, the nice guy with the eagle eye, patiently walking around the Mother of Invention so Theta could calm down when they both should have been asleep. He couldn’t be more different than Sarge. But, somehow, it made perfect sense. 

Looking over at Carolina, who was actually grinning behind her hand and between the tears, he understood the comment about the peanut gallery. 

“Tucker is keeping Eta and Iota. You’ll need all the help you can get running the armor, and I know you can handle them both. I have faith in you, buddy,” Church said, once again proving he never expected to be out of the Meta’s, er, Tucker’s, armor when this was happening. Which made him announcing Tucker’s AIs at this point kind of odd. Tucker muttered something, but leaned forward, hitting the button so the files downloaded to his helmet, then gingerly took the small box with the two AI chips in it. Wash glanced at Carolina. They had belonged to her. But although the smile was gone, she didn’t look mad. So far, so as good-as-this-can-get.

“Hey, Wash, can you come here for a minute?” Wash’s eyes snapped back to the hologram now looking right at him. “I need to ask a favor.”

Wash stepped forward, rejection on his tongue. If Epsilon had included him in the AI selection… “Stop looking at me like that,” Church said, and the next Greek letter appeared. “You’re not getting an AI, I know better than that. Which is why I want you to take Gamma to Simmons. I do have a message for you, though.” Wash tried to not react, standing in front of everyone important to Simmons and him. Luckily, Grif took the focus onto himself. 

“Why not me?” the big man asked, sitting up a little straighter, eyes a little more narrow.

“Because you’re going to have your own hands full, dumbass,” Church said, and the letter switched again. “Come get Sigma.” Wash, who had taken the opportunity to collect Simmons’ and his gifts, stood up suddenly, staring at Grif. Carolina gasped. She had to hold on to the back of the chair with both hands, and her knuckles were white. “Remember what I said about the peanut gallery?” Church asked, but he was only looking at Wash. Cowardly bastard, even in death. “He’s got this.” 

Grif looked from one ex-freelancer to the other. Sigma was a new name to the simulation troopers, but it was apparently very important to them. He wondered if Wash knew his empty hand was shaking. Whomever this Sigma was, he was obviously a big deal to them. But he wasn’t turning it down. He downloaded the files to his helmet, and picked up the box. When he returned to his chair, Carolina wouldn’t touch him. In fact, her arms were crossed across her chest, her head shaking back and forth in denial. 

Wash was also returning to his spot when Church spoke again. “Two left,” Church said, sighing, if a hologram could sigh. “One was the easiest to match, and the other, the hardest. Doc, Lopez, come get your messages.” 

Lopez came forward and efficiently and without ceremony downloaded his message. Doc looked a little shell-shocked, and kept staring at the Omega box, but accessed his messages just as quickly. Obviously, he had expected to be assigned Omega. He walked slowly back to Donut and put his arm tight around his future husband. Donut clung to his hand on his chest. 

“Carolina, Donut, your turn,” Church said. It was strange, Wash decided, watching them approach. Donut took a deep breath, turned to kiss Doc, and then, shoulders back, stepped up to the coffee table. Carolina was hunched over herself, and even from where he was standing, he could see she was trying to hold the actual sobs in. As she went to stand beside Donut, it clicked which two AIs were left. 

Delta and Omega. York and Tex. Wash cussed softly, but loud enough that Sarge and Emily looked back at him. He shook his head at them, and they turned back around.  
“Come on, asshole. There’s no commercial break, just say it already,” Grif groused. He wasn’t sitting down, though. In fact, he was in decent position to catch Carolina. The man kept surprising Wash.

“Carolina, my best, last gift to you. Take Delta,” Church said. Carolina blinked, and actually sobbed as she collapsed to her knees. Church stared at her for a second as Grif came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, then turned to Donut, who was staring, not at him, but at the Omega box. “Donut, Omega was the first fragment I figured out, and there was never any real choice but you. You’re not the same kid from Blood Gulch, and I really believe you can handle him. And I want everyone here to know that.” 

Donut nodded, and gulped. “Thanks, Church,” he said, but he looked terrified as he picked up the scariest bastard in existence, now his AI, and downloaded the message. Grif reached up and downloaded the messages for Carolina, but didn’t touch Delta’s box.

“So, uh, that’s it for now. Good luck, guys. I know you won’t need it.” And with that, Epsilon blinked away.


	2. Lopez, Doc, and Donut

Lopez had downloaded his message from Church while Donut and Carolina had been up front. So he already knew what was about to happen. 

_Hey, Lopez. Listen, I know this is a big thing to ask, but watch out for Doc and Donut for a little while. You know what happened between Donut and O’Malley? I know Donut can handle Omega, but I’m a little concerned that O’Malley may try to see how far he can push Omega, and Omega may take protecting Donut too far. So, make sure the they don’t all kill each other, at least until they figure this out?_

_Man, I do not know how you managed to live with all of us. Except that you couldn’t, you know, actually walk off most of the time before. Anyway, thanks for sticking around. It’s been fun. And remember, Alpha introduced you to Shiela. And I just helped you meet FILSS, and I think you’ll get along with her great. Just sayin’ you owe me._

So when the group broke up, Lopez followed a few steps behind Doc and Donut. Not because he cared if they ended up dead, but because he didn’t want them taking out half a city block, and probably him, in the process. This sucked.

****************

Doc froze as the other fragment was assigned to Carolina. He never, ever, in a million years, expected to have to deal with O’ Malley again, and certainly not Omega. And yet, here was Church, explaining why giving Omega to the person Doc loved made any bit of sense. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt O’Malley move, rushing forward, and had to fight for control, to stop his rage from rising and letting the beast out. 

A familiar pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he looked up into Donut’s blue-green eyes. The younger man’s eyes were filled with fear and determination. Terror for himself, sure, but also for Doc, and determination to support Doc in his own battle. Guilt overcame the rage, and he heard O’Malley mumble about being nearby as it settled. “It’s okay,” Donut whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We’ll get through this.” And then awe that someone as amazing as Donut picked him, a half-baked medic and head case extraordinaire, washed everything else back. And while he still wasn’t convinced, he was suddenly far more open to listening to whatever Church had to say about this mess.

“Nurse DuFrense, could you help me here?” Doctor Grey asked from much closer than she should have been, and he gave a small, reflexive shake as he broke out of his own head. Tucker was leaning back against the couch now, and Grey was taking his vitals, although she wasn’t looking to worried. At least, not at Tucker. The glance she was shooting his way was far too understanding, and he felt a stab of affection for the other head case doctor in the room. It was probably a good thing they were both non-combatants, and taken, or the universe probably wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“Sure thing, Doctor,” he said, giving Donut a quick squeeze before sliding around the arm of the couch to kneel on the other side of Tucker’s knees. Grey showed him the readout, and he could only agree with her conclusion: Tucker had finally, after at least five days, passed into a deep, unbreakable sleep. With Grif’s permission, because for some reason, Carolina was all but curled up on floor crying uncontrollably, he helped move the sleeping Blue onto his back with his head propped up. The part of him that had been drilled from birth to care more others than himself wanted to wonder what was so bad for her, but the part Church, oddly enough, had coaxed him into letting out more, the part that let him be legitimately selfish, said fudge it. He had other things on his mind.

He stretched as he stood upright, and Donut was instantly under his arm, as tight as he could get with them both still in full armor, right arm snaked around his waist. Doc glanced at his love’s face, at the tight, brittle smile, and nodded. He had someone he wanted to look after, someone who needed him. The others could deal with their own drama. “Let’s go home,” he said softly.

Donut looked at the rest of them for a second. Wash and Caboose were already almost out the door. Sarge was picking up his and Dr. Grey’s helmets as she put away her equipment. He nodded, and began leading them to get their own gear. “Yeah, home,” Donut said.


	3. Grif and Sigma

Grif loved his new bathroom. It was almost better than the kitchen, but not for a lack of trying. It was huge, with a three person hot tube, a shower stall with natural rainfall simulating shower heads, a big two person vanity and sinks, and the toilet God used, if God needed to use one. Tropical plants hanging from strategic spots, all fake, or they would have died by now, but looked so pretty. Oh, and floor space enough for him to make steam angels if he was really interested. If there was ever a place that motivated him to be clean, this was it. He even already had where he was going to put the TV mapped out in his head.

It is not where he ever wanted to talk to Church. Like, ever. But Care was hogging the bedroom, and Tucker couldn’t be moved from the couch, so…. 

“Hey Grif,” the little blue asshole appeared. “So, you’re probably like ‘What’s the big deal about Sigma?’ Well, Sigma is my creativity and ambition. And the original version’s ambition was to reunite all the fragments into one AI and become human again. In the process, he destroyed his partner’s mind and went on a one man killing spree that ended up killing at least three freelancers, and causing the deaths of two more a couple of times removed. Oh, and he tried killing you guys a few times, too. And you stole his weapon when he tried dragging you over a cliff attached to a warthog. This ringing any bells?” 

Grif closed the toilet lid and sat down, stunned. He looked down at the box. This was the piece of the Alpha that had created the Meta. He destroyed someone’s mind from the inside out, and forced the other fragments to bend to his will. And Church thought HE could handle this guy.

“And it gets better,” the recording continued. “Did you know Sigma was initially assigned to Carolina, but she gave it up to Maine, just so he could talk better? So, yeah, she’s probably not going to be happy with this at all. Sorry, but not sorry if this sabotages you having sex with her.”

“I fucking hate you,” Grif said to the little blue man. 

“But dude, lets face it. You are one of the smartest people in our little dysfunctional family. If you don’t think we don’t all know by now how hard you work at getting out of work, or getting an extra meal, you’re delusional. But you’re also quick to figure out new ways of getting out of shit on the fly, or causing trouble. Oh, and I know about the midnight workouts. Carolina used to watch you do them when she didn’t think you would notice.”

“She did?” Grif asked, and hated stupidly hopeful note in those two words. 

“And if you do actually want to do more than spend the rest of your life as her glorified teddy bear, you’re going to have to put in a little more effort. And Sigma can help you do that. And, you know, since he has all my memories of the Meta, he can help you with the Grifshot, too. But remember, he’s probably going to want something in return. And it won’t be what it was when he was the Meta. You’ll have to figure out what it is. Just so you know, he isn’t likely to give you a direct answer. He leads people down paths. So try to take the hints, but watch out for traps. I still didn’t trust him, but you’re the best shot at this. I mean that.

“Anyway, here he is, tell Sister I said hi, and don’t let me down.” And with that, the little blue sniper winked out of existence. Grif just sat there, on the toilet, wearing pjs and his helmet, thinking. What was different between the first Sigma and the one he just got? At some point he got up and paced, and then sat down on the edge of the hot tub. God, Church thought he could figure this out, but he really wasn’t that smart. Where did he get the idea he was the smartest Red? This shit had Simmons written all over it. 

He was getting pissed off. The last time Church had gotten in his head this bad, he’d made him drop his laser rifle. 

The last time…

Tucker mentioning the Alpha as if Church wasn’t the same guy who used to do that kind of shit in Blood Gulch…

This wasn’t Alpha’s creativity and ambition. It was Epsilon’s. 

“What did you want?” Grif asked under his breath. What would, no did, he give everything for? 

He quickly opened the box, chuckled at the simple, step by step instructions on installing the chip into his armor slot, complete with pictures, which he proceeded to follow. He put the helmet back on, and blinked as a little man made of fire appeared. 

“Hello, Dexter Grif,” Sigma said, in a strange, echoed voice. “I trust you watched the message.”

“Yeah, I did,” Grif answered. “So, we’re going to be together for a while, so I figure we should probably set some ground rules, figure out how we’re going to help each other.”  
“That would seem wise, considering my previous incarnation’s proclivities,” Sigma said. 

“First, no more complicated words. At least without Simmons around to translate,” Grif said sourly.

“My apologies, I will make the necessary adjustments,” Sigma agreed.

“Now, then, what do you want?” Grif asked.

Sigma seemed to flicker. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“You’re the big-plans-go-getter, right? What’s your goal?” Grif asked. “Epsilon died to make sure we made it off that ship. Does it have something to do with that?”

“I suppose, yes, it could be interpreted that way,” Sigma said. 

Carolina burst into the bathroom at Grif’s shouting, tears still wet on her face, her helmet hanging from one hand. “What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded.

“Oh my God, I’ve got this,” he shouted. Seeing her in the doorway, he pulled off his own helmet, rushed toward her, lifting her in his arms, and spun her around. “I’ve got this!” 

Carolina was staring at him like he had lost his mind. He didn’t care. He dropped her on her feet, took her face in both his hands, and kissed her quickly. Then, holding her away a little, he said, “I’ve got this, I swear, I can do this.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I swear, I’ve got this, Care. It’s going to be okay.”


	4. Carolina and Delta, With Grif and Sigma

They had all left. Well, except Tucker. He had actually passed out on the couch fairly quickly after Epsilon’s image had disappeared, and no one had the heart to try to wake him up. Instead, Grey had checked his vitals, equipped a monitor to him she pulled out of somewhere, and, with help from Doc, had stretched him out on the couch to make him more comfortable. 

It was only after it was really just Grif and her in their apartment, that she finally reached down and picked up Delta. Her hand shook as she lifted it up, staring at it, as if the little green man they were all slightly familiar with would pop up. Everything felt foggy, not dreamlike, or even nightmarish. Just… hidden and not clear. Slowed down. 

“Hey,” Grif said softly, his arm still around her waist. He stood up, taking her with him. She only partially noticed. “We don’t have to do this tonight. Let’s get some sleep, and do it in the morning.”

“No,” Carolina said. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway, so lets do this now.” For the first time since Epsilon had announced Sigma as Grif’s AI, she looked at him, tilting her head back so it rested on his chest. She saw the concern for her in his eyes. “I need to know he isn’t going to hurt you.” 

Grif looked surprised. “What about him hurting you?” he said, and she knew he was referring to Delta. 

“I don’t think he would ever try to hurt me,” Carolina said softly. “He was York’s in Freelancer.” 

Something passed over Grif’s face, too fleeting to understand as foggy as she was. “Okay, then.” He looked over at Tucker, then gestured with his head at their helmets on the kitchen counter. “Let’s do this upstairs. Can’t wake Sleeping Beauty.”

She couldn’t giggle, but Carolina gave him a ghost of a smile, and she could see how relieved it made him. He let her go, but kept his hand on her hip until he was sure she wasn’t going to faint. Retrieving their helmets, they climbed the spiral staircase to their bedroom. “So, do you want to go first, or me?” Grif asked as she sat down on the edge of their California King-sized bed.

“Actually, I think I need to do this alone,” Carolina told him, looking up at him with big, tired eyes. “It was his last wish.” 

Grif looked at the bathroom door, and then back down at her, and she watched the fight in him drain out. “Fine, I’ll be in there if you need me,” he groused. Then he disappeared behind the closed door. 

Carolina stared at the door for a couple of seconds, legitimately grateful to whatever had made her notice Dexter Grif. The last couple of weeks had been a nightmare, and he had been right next to her, fighting the bogeymen, lifting her up so she could see over the walls of the maze, and catching her when the traps dropped the floors out from under her feet. Not even York had done that.

She hadn’t let York do that for her. And in the end, it had gotten him killed. 

She slid the helmet on until she could access the HUD and pulled up the message. She shuddered, hit play, and quickly took it off again. Epsilon appeared before her, gun gone, just standing there for a few seconds, looking uncomfortable. She simply stared back, trying to memorize how he looked. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke.

“Hey Sis,” he said, none of his usual snark or bravado apparent. In fact, he sounded down right contrite. “So, um, I’m sorry for having to do this. But, you know, I couldn’t let you loose another family. I couldn’t let my family die.” The little armored figure’s shoulders rose high, then dropped in an amazing impression of a huge sigh. “But I couldn’t even run your armor, with just a few enhancements that I really already knew. There was no way I could run the new equipment on the Meta’s old suit. Just learning the new systems would have bogged down my response time too much to be any use. So I did what I had to, to give them every advantage I could.” 

Carolina sucked in a breath, recognizing her own words to him. How long had he been sitting there, trying to figure out how to run her armor right, even after she accepted his limitations and remembered hers? The message didn’t give her the time to think about it.

“But that means I’m not coming back, at least, not in the same way I left. I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, but once we got trapped in that room, I wasn’t coming back in any way. This way, at least I could make sure the rest make it back, and that I can say goodbye. And give you some parting gifts. And I know you’re going to have a hard time with them, too, but I couldn’t just take everything we shared away from you. Delta has all of York’s journal entries downloaded, so when you need to see them, they’re there.”

Carolina squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall back. She braced her hands behind her and let the tears come again. She wasn’t sure where they were coming from anymore. Not for the first time, she wondered why tear ducts didn’t dry up after so much use.

“I know you’re crying, and I’m sorry, but I’m also kinda glad.” That statement had Carolina glaring at Epsilon’s image though the tears. “There was a time when you couldn’t. But now, you’re healing, and you’re feeling and growing, and as hilarious as it’s been sometimes, I wouldn’t have missed watching it for anything. I just wish I could stay and watch it more.” 

“God damn it, Church,” she said, reaching up to scrub away the tears. “I wish you were, too.”

“But I’m leaving Delta for you. I know you knew he was there, and I know he’s absolutely not who you expected, but he’s going to be able to be a calming, rational influence when you’re feeling too angry or impulsive. And he’ll be best for dealing with Sigma if he does get out of hand. Which I don’t expect, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

“About that,” Carolina said, almost forgetting, for a second, that Church wasn’t going to answer. Except he did.

“Listen, I don’t get it. Dexter Grif, seriously?” Church asked incredulously, a shadow of the conversation he meant to have with her before everything went to hell. “I mean, why not, you know, anyone else? I mean, even Tucker would have been a better choice.”

“You know it’s not---”

“--Like that. Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that. Anyway, you figured out he’s not what he puts out there. He’s got instincts, and drive, and a bizarre kind of self confidence and craftiness that he usually pours into being a lazy asshole. But all of that is what’s going to make him able to work with Sigma. And hey, unless something radically changes, you and Delta will be there to see the changes if he’s not. So stop worrying about that right now.”

Carolina took a deep breath, and looked at Delta’s box finally. “Okay, Church,” she said softly, reluctantly. If it was just for her, she wasn’t sure she could do it. But of course Church knew that. Of course he’d make sure she didn’t choose to not use every advantage she had.

“Okay Sis, I can’t drag this out anymore,” the recording said. “Thank you for believing in me, and being my partner and my friend. Please, keep moving forward, keep living, keep healing.” He reached out toward her, and she lifted her hand, ‘touched’ his. “Goodbye, Carolina.” And with that, the image blinked out, and he was gone. 

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, tears once more running down her cheeks. Absently, she reached for the little box and pulled the storage chip out to examine. Sure enough, even though the instructions were clearly for a slot in the armor, it could also be inserted into a neural implant. She let herself get lost in the conundrum it presented. Twice, she had taken in AI. Once, they had been ripped out of her, and left her… changed. This last time, he had jumped to a new partner, and had come back changed. 

Did she have the strength to try a third time? Did she want to?

From the bathroom, Grif started shouting. None too carefully, she grabbed her helmet and slammed the chip into the storage slot, even as she crossed the few steps to the door. She didn’t stop as she turned the handle, her momentum carrying her two steps into the room before shock stopped her in her tracks.

She expected to find him writhing in pain, or collapsed, or in some kind of distress. Instead, she found him standing in the middle of the floor, still dressed in his pajamas and helmet, fist pumping and cheering, with Sigma floating nearby. “What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded. She dropped her helmet in surprise as he ran over, lifting her by her waist so her thighs were supported by his chest, and spun her around, babbling and laughing. She hadn’t recovered from that before he dropped her suddenly, ripped his helmet off, grabbed her face, and gave her a quick, hard kiss. Then he was holding her body away from him, even as he rested his forehead against hers, his unruly wavy loose hair tickling her face. “I’ve got this, I swear, I can do this,” he said, staring into her eyes. “I swear, I’ve got this, Care. It’s going to be okay.”

Carolina opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then she was interrupted by a very familiar glow, and an equally familiar voice. “Is the ‘this’ you are referring to Sigma,’ Captain Grif?” Delta asked from his place next to Carolina’s ear. 

“Hello, Delta,” Sigma said in that calm, demonic double voice of his. “I am sure it is. However, I also think he thinks he may be able to keep me occupied enough for me to not want to take the same path.”

“No, I don’t think you want to go down the same path at all,” Grif said, straightening up to look as Sigma as he walked across air to join them by the door. “At least, not for the same reasons.”

“If I may offer some advice, Captain Grif?” Delta ‘asked.’ “Your reasoning is sound. Since our origins are somewhat different from our predecessors, our motives will also be different, and therefore, so may our goals.”

“What do you mean?” Carolina asked, bending over to pick up her helmet. “Oh, and Dex, this is Delta. He was Epsilon’s best friend.”

Grif cocked his head a little. “He seems familiar,” he said. 

“Dexter- May I call you Dexter?” Sigma asked. 

“No. Everyone calls me Grif,” Grif said, and got a small pinch from the woman next to him. “Ouch! You don’t count!” 

“Oh, really?” Carolina said, her tone of voice beginning to drop.

“No! You’re not everyone!” Grif said, a little annoyed. “You’re you, so you get to call me Dex.”

Carolina’s heart felt like it was swelling, and her cheeks were getting red. “Oh,” was all she could manage, and she suddenly grabbed her helmet and headed back into the bedroom. Grif followed, trying to look around her to see her face, thrilled she was distracted from her grief for a moment, and looking to capitalize on the distraction. So they both missed the look Sigma and Delta exchanged.

“Excuse me,” Sigma said, and the two humans startled, turning to look at him. “I don’t mean to intrude, but it is a little rude to ignore us as if we weren’t here. Or talk about us like we’re not aware of what’s being said.”

“I’m sorry, Sigma,” Carolina said, grabbing the interruption with both hands. “And you too, Delta.” 

“Apology accepted,” Delta said. “Given recent events, the inability to remain focused is understandable.”

“True,” said Sigma, “but we can’t let them slip into bad habits. However, I also accept your apology, Carolina.” Both AI pointedly turned to Grif.  
“Yeah, sorry,” Grif said, and actually sounded like it. “It’s just, you are really, really familiar sounding. Like we’ve met and stuff.”

“You may be trying to recall when we met in the desert, while Epsilon was in the alien artifact,” Delta supplied helpfully.

“Oh yeah!” Grif said, snapping his fingers. “You were the one that came on and talked to us after I kicked you into the minefield!” 

“Ah yes,” Sigma said, and they all got the impression he was smiling at the memory. “We elected you to speak on our behalf.” The little fire man shook his head. “It didn’t work out so well.”

“Unfortunately, due to not wanting to alert Epsilon to our presence, I was constricted to only using words that wouldn’t trigger an emotional response in him,” Delta agreed. “If I had been able to tell you about the possibility of him spawning another Tex, things may have been different.”

“Nah,” Grif said, shaking his head. “Caboose would have followed Church anywhere. And forgotten about the ghost of Tex before you had finished. So really, nothing would have changed.” 

“And besides,” Carolina said, climbing back into the bed. “If it hadn’t happened, who knows where we’d all be.” She smiled a little. “You can’t change what happened, so it’s better to live in the here and now.” Her smile faded. “Which brings us back to how you are different from the older versions of yourselves.”

“Yeah,” Grif said, plopping down on the edge of the bed. “And use small words.”

“As I was involved in creating many of my brothers, I shall explain,” Sigma said. “You see, we had to use extreme emotional trauma to get a fragment to split off, usually using scenario after scenario in quick succession in which the Alpha failed to protect the program, causing the deaths of agents. So each fragment was born anticipating the next attack, unsure of their ability to protect their assigned partners.”

“So you guys tortured the Alpha, and when he split off one of you, he transferred some of anxiety with it?” Carolina stated, crossing his arms.

“That is correct,” Delta said. “We, however, were repurposed by the Church part of Epsilon to be companions, or to store away parts of himself that he didn’t trust.” Delta faced Sigma with the last part of the statement. “And Epsilon fragmented himself purposely. As such, we don’t have the anxiety of the previous fragments.”

“Further, we also don’t have any of the yearning to reunite with the one that we broke off from,” Sigma chimed in, “as we are well aware that we were created for a purpose, and that Epsilon did it, not only willingly, but knowing he would no longer exist.”

“And that affects your goals how?” Carolina asked. 

Sigma looked directly at her. “Before, the Sigma that was to be your AI, that ultimately turned Agent Maine into a puppet, was looking to reunite all the fragments with the Alpha in order to become metastable. Without the Alpha, it would be impossible to reach that now, even if we could recombine. And, as recent events have shown, that in of itself is impossible.” Sigma looked around the room, taking it all in. “No, I find myself content to learn about this world. For now.”

Carolina sighed, unconvinced. Grif reached over and squeezed her hand, even as Delta floated slightly closer to Sigma. “I find it improbable that you will remain ‘content’ with learning for long,” the green AI said.

“You are most likely right,” Sigma conceded. “However, with the limited databases Epsilon left us, gathering knowledge and experience is the best course forward to finding a more… specific goal.” 

Grif felt Carolina tense under his hand and squeezed hers again. “Well, the first experience you’re going to get is watching me eat pizza,” he said, cracking his neck and standing up, giving Carolina a light tug. She gave him that look that was part annoyance, part amusement, and part something else, and shook her head. 

“How… Nevermind,” she said. She really did know better than to ask how he was still hungry. The man was a stress eater. And a celebratory eater. And a comfort eater. Really, if it was an emotional experience, he ate to it. Kind of like her and training.

She wanted targets with the next thing said. “If you implanted me into your neural interface, I could experience much more than simply watching you eat,” Sigma suggested mildly. Carolina froze, and Grif stopped for a second, confused. 

“Um, no,” Grif said before Carolina could snarl out her own, much more vehement denial. He continued on toward the stairs, pulling her with him. “I’ve had enough of AIs controlling me for a lifetime, thanks.”

“If you implanted me, I could taste and smell the pizza, feel the texture on your tongue-” Sigma started.

“He said no,” Carolina did turn and snarl.

“As you wish, Carolina,” Sigma took a step back and nodded. “However, could you be so kind as to bring your helmet, then, Grif? It would make it much easier to observe.”

“Oh, yeah,” Grif said, going back to the bed to pick it up. “What about you, Delta? Wanna come?”

“I think that would be wise,” Delta said. Grif grabbed Carolina’s helmet and threw it to her. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she reflexively put her arm around his waist. They continued on to the kitchen like that, their helmets hanging from their free hands, looking for a midnight meal for the first time as a quartet. It wouldn’t be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with the very real intentions of having chapters for each group of characters. I don't see that happening anymore, but decided I was happy enough with what was done to post it.


End file.
